Liberi Fatales
by Acid Pen IV
Summary: With the blazing truth, burn the evil of the world. Light the shadows of the world. Be strong children, in the fated days. An introverted, unwilling young hero, and the strongwilled girl who taught him to live. A story of love, fear, hope, and redemption.
1. Chapter 1

_She floated through a timeless space, struggling second by second, forcing herself to exist in the endless nothingness, without time, without thought, without hope. Her heart reached out, grasping some lifeline and began to reel her in. Words she could not hear whispered through her body. As they became stronger she could feel herself again, coming to life as the words reverberated through her being. The sense of floating gradually shifted to falling. As she plummeted through the emptiness, her mind began to awaken, and she began to feel the feeling of existence. It was impossible to describe. Incomprehensible on every level. So slowly, as she wakened, the memory of the time in between, the time of nonexistence, faded from her. As her consciousness awoke and she slipped back into existence all that was left were the words, a piece of a conversation. A promise made lifetimes ago, resonating through her soul:_

_"I'll be here…"_

_"Why…? "_

_"I'll be waiting…"_

_"For What…?"_

_"I'll be waiting…here…for you. So if you come here…you'll find me…I promise."_

_And they drew her home._

_Now she stood in an endless meadow of flowers, stretching as far as she could see in each direction. It seemed she'd always been there. She was filled with the feeling that she had dreamed a thousand dreams and forgotten them all. The sky overhead boiled, and storms of petals were whipped from their stalks in flurries of color by the wind. The field was empty. She reached out and caught a petal on the wind. "Please," her heart cried out, "where are you?" She opened her hand, and in it was a feather, as white and pure as snow. It lay in her hand for a fraction of a second, and for a moment the timeless place in between froze. Then the wind caught it and swept it up towards the heavens. And the girl followed it, back into the void._

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All night, a bitter northerly wind swept down of the Trabian snowfields, over the tropical Balamb current, so that when the day dawned, its spawn of threatening clouds could be seen crowding up over the southern horizon. As the day progressed, the forbidding mountains of moisture continued to blacken and swell. Around noon, the winds swung round to a strong southerly breeze, blowing back the way they came. Within an hour they reached near gale force, ushering the menacing storm north towards the isle of Balamb. By five that evening, the clouds had strangled the late April sun and her blue skies, and though the wind had calmed, the clouds had only grown darker and more dangerous.

On a cliff overlooking a turbulent ocean, two young men stood, tense and alert, sizing each other up, and preparing themselves for battle. The first man stood slightly less than a head taller than his opponent. His hair was blonde, and cropped close to his head. He was garbed in a light blue vest and a long white trench coat with red swords emblazoned on the sleeves. His hands were gloved in black hide, and in his right, he held a hybrid sword-like weapon. The blade was long and black, engraved with an intricate pattern, and razor sharp. At its base, where the hilt should have been, was a handle similar to that of a handgun, loaded with a magazine of cartridges that would send a powerful jolt of concussive energy down the blade, and a trigger. The hem of his coat whipped to and fro in the rising strength of the gusting wind, and his bright blue eyes narrowed as he surveyed his adversary.

The man across from him was clad in black boots and black pants made out of a durable material, a white undershirt, and a leather bomber jacket, with a soft white fur adorning the collar. Around his waist were slung three belts. One secured his pants, while the other two hung loosely, the first holding numerous large cartridges, and the second holding an assortment of medicinal supplies. His hair was long and dark, the longer strands hanging near his grey-blue eyes. His hands too, were gloved, and like the blonde man, he held a gunblade in his right hand. However, unlike his antagonist's long narrow blade, the blade of his weapon was constructed more along the lines of a katana, sharpened only on one edge, which curved up at the tip, though the blade was thicker, and the flat much wider. Rather than a magazine in the handle to hold his concussive shells, the hilt of his gunblade resembled a revolver. From the butt of the hilt by a silver chain, hung a silvery pendant of the fierce head of a lion. Around his neck hung its mate, also on a silver chain, and beneath the glove on his right hand, a telltale bulge betrayed a ring that matched the pendants.

An unspoken understanding passed between them, and the air between them seemed to tighten, as the blond man raised his weapon to shoulder level with his right arm strait out, and the flat of his blade downwards. His opponent stepped forward, raising his blade with both hands, holding it out in front of him, with his elbows bent and his feet offset. The wind died suddenly, and in the eternity of a few seconds, the tableau seemed frozen: the calm before the storm. Then, like a signal, a bolt of lightning arced across the sky. In the split second before the thunder, the scene shattered as the blond twisted into a spin, his weapon singing through the air. His adversary stepped forward, swinging his blade up to block the strike, but in the moment of impact, a deafening roar of thunder overwhelmed the sound of clashing steel.

The combatants whirled across the rocky terrain, as the sky opened up, and the rain poured down. Below them, a wrathful sea hurled great waves against the cliffs, sending spays of seawater high into the air, which where whipped away by the howling wind. The men seemed evenly matched, as neither seemed to be able to find an opening in his opponent's defense. As the blonde pressed forward, the darker man carefully parried each stroke and jab, moving slowly backward. As he did so, his foot slipped on the slick rock, causing him to stagger back, his weight unsteadily on his heels. His foe leapt eagerly forward, taking advantage of the momentary weakness with a long, upward slash. The dark haired man somehow managed to block it, but his gunblade slipped from his grasp, and was flung high towards the clouds. His opponent drove forward with a thrust, which he barely dodged, throwing himself into an agile backwards roll, and rising nimbly to his feet, weight on his toes. He looked up as his gunblade fell, smashing down between them, its point buried it the rock, quivering. He stepped forward to retrieve it, and the battle began anew.

Again the two men ducked, dodged, and parried; struck, whirled and thrust. The ring of steel on steel resounded across the rocks, between the flash and explosion of the lightning and thunder. As the battle progressed, it became more heated as blood pounded hot through their veins, replacing calm calculation with anger. As they felt themselves near exhaustion, their strokes became stronger with desperation. The blonde's eyes narrowed with frustration as he dodged and sliced around his opponent, attempting gambit after gambit, each as fruitless as the rocks beneath them. The brunette had become completely defensive, pacing himself, saving his energy, biding his time. Suddenly, the blonde spotted an opening, and lunged in to take advantage of it. His move was anticipated however, as the brunette sprang back out of reach, narrowly avoiding the tip of his attacker's sword as it bit at his torso.

Now they circled each other warily, panting with the exertion, their breaths billowing in hot steamy clouds from their open mouths. The blond smirked across the space between them, and taunted his adversary, beckoning him on. The second man accepted the challenge, charging across the gap; launching himself into a flurry of frenzied strikes, forcing his opponent to give ground, using his emotions to fuel his attack, striking hard and fast. Sparks flew as the blond deflected each powerful stroke. Each slash hammered down on his gunblade, causing his balance to shake. He could feel his strength draining away as he struggled to block each powerful blow. The brunette, sensing the weakness of fatigue, summoned his strength and swung his blade back for a final assault. Desperately, the blonde swung his blade in a low, horizontal swipe, catching his opponent off guard, disrupting his attack, and forcing him to leap back yet again.

The darker haired man landed lightly, twirled his blade, and sprinted forward once more. But even as he did so, the blonde was raising his arm, and from his outstretched palm flew a fiery blast. For the last time his rival was caught off guard, barely managing to deflect the brunt of the magical attack with his gunblade. He was flung backwards, his weapon clattering across the stone to rest beside him. The blonde rushed forward, a sneer on his lips, triumph in his eye. With victory at hand, he raised his gundblade up for a final cut. The dark haired man watched the blade arc skyward, then descend in a long, oblique slice. Pain seared across his face like a white-hot knife, and he watched as blood spattered across the ground in front of him. Rage flooded through his being, and in one smooth motion he seized his weapon, and rose. A primal scream erupted from his lips, as he swung his gunblade up towards his opponent's surprised face. The tip connected and drew an identical red line between the eyes of the blonde, sending a spray of blood skyward. The blonde man staggered back with a shriek of pain and shock. Squall set his feet as adrenaline coursed through him, expecting a vengeful onslaught. Without warning his vision blurred and for a split second a feeling of overwhelming fear and anguish flooded through him. He collapsed on the ground, and the last image that flashed before his eyes was of a raven-haired girl, racing desperately across a barren wasteland with a look of utter despair in her eyes. Then he knew no more.

Squall's retaliation had caught Seifer completely unawares. He stumbled backwards, shouting in pain and surprise. Fury flooded through him, and he lifted his gunblade to charge Squall, but as he looked across the rock towards the brunette, he saw in his eyes a look of such intense pain that he was startled into hesitation, and in that moment Squall collapsed before him. The anger leaked out of Seifer like water through cloth. He shot a look of contempt down at the prostrate fighter at his feet.

_Oh well, _He thought scornfully,_ he probably feinted_. _Guess I better get him back to the infirmary._

"What a pussy," he said aloud. And with that, Seifer sheathed his gunblade, lifted Squall's limp body onto his shoulders and trudged off slowly across the rocks through the pouring rain, back to the shelter of Balamb Garden.

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Seifer Almasy was not above cheating to win a battle but he did have a warrior's sense of honor to an extent. To him it was all well and good to do what you had to do to win, but once your opponent was beaten there was no need to embarrass them. There were exceptions of course. In his opinion weak people deserve to be punished, and he wasn't above even the basest of acts in the name of revenge. But despite Seifer's derisive attitude towards Squall, he did have a certain amount of respect for the brunette as a worthy adversary. In all honesty, any battle between the two of them could go either way. They'd had a handful of scuffles in the past and both of them had won a few. Seifer had to admit (if only to himself) it could just as easily been him kneeling on the rock beneath Squall, though he knew Squall's sense of honor would not allow him to use magic to win a weapon only duel. And he probably wouldn't have cut Seifer's face open had the situation been reversed. He would've considered that a cheap shot. In any case, Squall was neither weak, nor had he given Seifer enough insult to deserve complete disgrace. Squall had nearly as much pride as he, and it would sting sharply from his defeat. He would not enough give Squall the added humiliation of being carried back into Garden unconscious. It would be bad enough when he told the school about Squall feinting, and since Dr. Kadowaki would most likely hospitalize Squall for the night, he would have shame enough as it was.

Besides, It was slow going, and by the time Seifer had managed to toil off the rocky plateau onto the wide grasslands that covered most of Southern Balamb, he was sick of carrying Squall. The rain had slowed to a steady, drenching, drizzle, and it was nearly dark as Seifer approached one of the small copses that were scattered across the grassland. He ventured into the trees, but did not go too far. T-rexaurs, though rare, were common enough to watch out for in the woods. In addition, he thought it likely that he would not be the only one seeking shelter from the rain. He dropped Squall roughly on the ground beneath a tree and searched himself for a Phoenix Down. Once he located one, he dug a syringe and a tourniquet out of his coat pocket and injected the medicine into Squall's arm.

Phoenix Downs and Potions were one of the famous Doctor Odine's most useful inventions. The basic formula for both was a combination of steroids, amphetamines, and endorphins, combined with the extract of certain stones and plants with magical rejuvenating properties. No one but Dr. Odine really knew how they worked, but the affect was simple. The amphetamines gave the body energy, increasing the slowing heart rate of an exhausted, unconscious, or dying patient; the steroids boosted cell replication to heal injuries; and the endorphins dulled pain and created a sense of mild euphoria. That combination was then coupled with the rejuvenating magic by a process called junctioning (which simply put, is the method by which objects with magical properties are fused with ordinary ones). The magic magnified the effects of the other chemicals as well as adding its own curing force, and then the medicine is injected into the patient. They came in several different potencies, potions of various strengths for injuries and fatigue of varying magnitudes, up to Phoenix Downs of varying strength for those unconscious or recently deceased. Unsurprisingly success rates decreased rapidly the longer the subject was dead. To take any effect at all, Phoenix Downs had to be administered within roughly five minutes of "Departure". Phoenix Downs and potions were not the only medicinal miracles invented by Dr. Odine. After designing the junctioning method to harness magical healing properties, Odine had turned out a whole line of remedies for almost every magical or physical ailment imaginable, and now they could be bought at any authorized medical supply store by anyone with a license to purchase them.

Phoenix Downs took action rapidly, since they were injected strait into the bloodstream. Seifer hadn't been waiting a minute and a half before Squall stirred. He heard Squall curse quietly as he sat up. A look of disorientation flew fleetingly across his face before the normal deadpan returned as he recognized his surroundings. Seifer pulled two potions out of his coat and tossed one to Squall.

"There you go, sleeping beauty. Hurry up and drink, I want to be back at Garden before midnight."

Squall opened the bottle wordlessly and drank the repulsive liquid. The pair sat for a few minutes in silence, waiting for the medicine to take effect. Then rose and trekked through the cold and the dark, back to Balamb Garden, the blood mixing with water from the steady rain and running in streaks down their faces.


	2. Chapter 2

When he awoke the spring sun was shining through the open window, and the sound of birds was wafting in on a warm morning breeze. He lay there with his eyes closed, silently savoring the scent of wet earth that drifted in, drowning the too clean chemical smell of the infirmary. Squall sighed, wishing he was still asleep, and pushed himself into a sitting position. As he rose, a jolly looking woman in a long white coat bustled into the cubicle.

"Oh good, you're awake. How do you feel?" Squall snorted inwardly at the question. He felt fine; he had spent the night in the infirmary only because it seemed easier to placate Dr. Kadowaki, than storm out with indignant anger as Seifer had.

"Ok, I guess," he muttered after a pause.

"Excellent. Now say you're name for me." Squall couldn't help but feel a stab of annoyance at such a pointless demand. Again, however, it was simply easier to answer than to make a big deal out of it.

"Squall."

Dr. Kadowaki nodded. "You should be more careful next time, you might not get so lucky."

_Luck,_ said a dry voice in his head,_ had nothing to do with it._

"Tell that to Seifer," he said aloud.

Kadowaki sighed. "That Seifer. He doesn't listen to anybody."

_We salute you, Captain Obvious._

"Why don't you just ignore him?"

_Because_ thought Squall, _Ignoring Seifer only makes him angry_.

Not that Squall feared Seifer's anger, but it was just easier to fight him. Not to mention the fact that Squall would never turn down a challenge. A truth Seifer exploited frequently. Squall wasn't sure why, but as long as he could remember he had felt the need to prove himself. Not to the world, but to himself. That he could stand alone, and take care of himself, without relying on anyone. As he grew older taking petty dares didn't matter to him any more, but a challenge from Seifer was something his pride would not allow him to pass up. Especially when if he won, Seifer would shut up and leave him alone for a while.

"I can't just run away."

"So you want to be cool, huh? Well just don't get hurt in the process."

Squall snorted again. Typical. Being "cool" was probably the last thing on his mind, but he decided just to let it go.

"Whatever."

Dr. Kadowaki stood expectantly at the foot of his bed as if she was waiting for something more. When Squall remained silent, she turned and walked to the phone on the wall of the cubicle.

"Let me see…you're instructor is…" she paused, "Quistis!" Kadowaki ran her finger down the list of faculty members and their extensions that was taped next to the phone, found the name she was looking for, and dialed.

"Quistis?...Yes, come get you're student…..No, the injury isn't serious, however it'll probably leave a scar…"

Squall lay back brushing his dark hair out of his eyes, his mind drifting from the telephone conversation. He groaned inwardly, recalling again his loss to Seifer the previous evening. _He'll never shut up now…._

The fact that Seifer had cheated meant absolutely nothing. In fact, Squall was completely disgusted with himself for not anticipating such a Seifer-like tactic. Using magic in a strictly weapon only duel was _exactly_ the kind of thing Seifer would do. Squall had even expected Seifer to cheat, but in the heat of battle he had forgotten his suspicions completely.

His musings were interrupted when he caught a sudden motion in his peripheral vision. He turned his head to get a better look. The divider between his cubicle and the next was tinted glass, but even so he could see a young woman, who leaned towards him, and spoke.

"Squall…so we meet again…"

When she spoke, Squall could see her lips move, but the voice seemed to be in his head rather than in his ears. The girl studied him for a moment, then straitened, turned, and walked out. The door had barely closed after her before it hissed open again, and Instructor Trepe entered.

Qustis Trepe was a tall blonde woman. She was the youngest instructor in Garden, and was so popular among her students that she even had a club of groupies who called themselves the "Trepies". It wasn't hard to see why they worshiped her. She was an exceptional fighter, extremely beautiful, and had one of those motherly personalities. As usual, Quistis had her hair pinned back into a loose fold at the back of her head with the ends poking up. Two long strands hung on either side of her face. She was wearing her SeeD uniform, a navy blue and black suit and skirt, trimmed in gold, with a red tie. When she saw Squall she sighed and shook her head giving him a small smile.

"I knew it would either be you or Seifer," she said with a slightly exasperated tone. For a third time, Squall did not even bother with a response. Quistis shrugged off his cold silence, and gestured him to follow her, "Come on, today's the field exam."

If she had been expecting an enthusiastic reply, she was again brutally disappointed, as Squall rose without acknowledging her, and walked out of the infirmary. For a moment her face fell, portraying the frustration and disappointment she felt, but the expression left her face in a flash, as she gazed perplexedly out the window for a fraction of a second, then hurried out after her student. To her surprise he was waiting for her just outside the door, but he was obviously lost in thought. As they began walking down the hallway, Quistis could not resist the urge to reach out to her brooding student.

"Is there something on your mind?" she asked tentatively. He did not look at her or stop walking. Precisely what she had expected.

"…Not really." They said in unison. Quistis stopped walking abruptly, and burst into a light, happy laugh. Yet again, Squall was acutely annoyed.

"What's so funny?" he snapped. Quistis stopped laughing, but continued smiling brightly, which, if anything, only added to the young man's annoyance.

"No, its not that, I'm just happy" she explained, "I feel like I'm finally beginning to understand my student a little, that's all."

Squall looked at her, his face completely expressionless, his cold eyes boring into hers. Then, he turned and continued walking down the hallway.

"I'm more complex than you think." His voice was emotionless. Quistis stood for a moment, then rushed to catch up with him.

"Then tell me," she pressed, "tell me more about yourself."

Squall sighed, allowing his annoyance to show, "It's none of your–"

"–Business!" She finished, and erupted into laughter once more. Squall ignored her and aimed his attention up at the colossal main structure of Balamb Garden, looming above him.

The main structure was roughly infundibular, like a series of doughnuts set on top of one another, getting progressively smaller over the first three levels, and a half sphere resting on top. At the front was a large metal gate, through which was a sort of concrete courtyard, covered with an arbor and edged with flower planters. Beyond the courtyard was a security checkpoint with line of metal detectors and electrically locking gates with a bulletproof booth on each wall. To the right of the front gate, a road emerged from the parking garage and led off towards the town of Balamb. Arranged around the outside of the bottom level were seven smaller structures: the Parking Garage, the Library, the Training Center, the Dormitories, the Cafeteria, the Quad, and the Infirmary. Each was attached by a long hallway, which was permanently roofed, but in the upper half of the walls were broad, retractable, glass windows, and all along their length were periodical openings which led out into the open areas between the hallways. On a spring day like this the windows were down, the doors were flung wide, and students mingled here and there, lounging in the shade, sitting at picnic tables hurriedly completing homework assignments for their next period, and sparring on the grass. All across the campus were fountains and water works, which were channeled through the structure from a decorative reservoir beneath the circular suspended walkway that ran around the ground floor of the main structure, linking the hallways to the smaller structures, circling the elevator column in the center.

Most classes were held in the classrooms on the second floor, or in the lecture halls and auditorium on the third floor. Combat classes were held in designated portions of the open areas between hallways, in the Quad, or in the Training Center. Classes on dancing, astronomy, and social functions; practical etiquette classes; practical and social espionage; and occasionally lectures or combat classes (if the weather was inhospitable or all the lecture halls were booked) were held in the ballroom, which was also on the third floor. Since the elevator only serviced the basement, first, second, and fourth floors, the auditorium, ballroom, and lecture halls could only be reached by the stairs from the second floor.

Squall's homeroom was in a classroom on the second floor, and when Quistis was waylaid by another student outside the infirmary, Squall did not bother to hold the elevator for her. Nor did he wait for her when he reached the second level, thus when he entered the class he was alone. He was late, so inevitably any attempt at an inconspicuous entry would've been futile, as every set of eyes flickered up inquisitively at the sound of the door sliding open. Squall ignored them as he walked taciturnly to his terminal at the back of the room, sat down, and waited silently for the Instructor to arrive. A minute or so later, the door slid open, and Quitsis strode briskly in, greeting her class warmly.

"Good morning class," she said cheerfully, as she entered, "ok, let's start with today's schedule," she paused, looking around at her lethargic class, "as there seem to have been some rumors flying around since yesterday…"

Quistis smiled slightly as her class instantly transformed from a state of inert torpidity to a living thing as her words registered with them. Those who had heard the rumors began whispering excitedly to those who had not, and the whole ambiance of the room shifted instantly from languid indifference to excited anticipation.

"Yes," the instructor said, loudly enough to be heard over the buzz, and the class instantly returned to dead silence, "yes," she repeated in a softer voice, "the Field Exam for SeeD candidates will be held later this afternoon." The class broke into excited whispers once more, and Quistis was again forced to raise her voice, "Non participants, and those unfortunate souls who either failed the written exam last week, or did not complete the prerequisite will remain in Study Hall. Participants in the exam will have free time until the exam; however make sure you are in top shape. Unit assignments will be announced at 1600 hours in the front hall. Be punctual, as tardiness will not be tolerated. Assignments are only announced once, and if you miss you're assignment, you will be automatically disqualified. Do not forget from that from the time you're assignment is announced, until the time you return from the mission, you are being observed and graded. Any questions?" By the complete silence, she judged that they didn't.

"Alright then, if there aren't any questions, class dismissed." The students began to gather their belongings amidst excited conversations about the exam. "Oh! And Seifer," she added over the hum, "do NOT injure you're partner while training. Be more careful from now on." Seifer did not answer, only glared at the blonde woman for a moment, then aimed a look of pure contempt at Squall, who completely ignored it. Seifer raised one fist and slammed it on the terminal in front of him, which Quistis decided to treat as a sign of acquiescence.

"Thank you, Seifer. I'm sure Squall accepts you're apology. Field Exam participants, I will see you all later," Seifer glared icily at her for a moment, then rose and filed out of the class with the rest of the students. "And Squall?" she said, "I need to talk to you." Squall sighed with resignation, rose slowly, and walked up to her desk.

"You haven't been to the fire cavern yet, have you?"

Squall shook his head.

"You won't be able to take the field exam without passing the prerequisite."

"I know," Squall said, as he rested his head in his palm. _I was going to go yesterday, but Seifer wanted to duel and…_A lightning bolt of realization struck him. _That prick! He was trying to incapacitate me, so that I wouldn't be able to take the exam!_

Quistis sat silently for a moment, before interrupting her student's thoughts, "Do you have a good excuse?"

_Well, it was my fault for agreeing to fight Seifer, and being dumb enough to let him win so, _"Not really…."

"Well, then we'd better get going, hadn't we? Go grab your gear, and some breakfast and send me a text when you're ready," she said with finality, then turned and exited, ignoring three twittering students grouped by the door, which were no doubt 'Trepies'. The trio watched disappointedly as she strode past them, and as Squall passed them he heard one mutter enviously.

"Alone with Instructor Trepe…"

"If he does anything to her…" Another replied menacingly.

Squall could not help but laugh as he followed the instructor out the door.

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As Squall left the classroom, the garden's clock tolled off eight bells. With nothing to do before the exam but go to the Fire Cavern, he figured he had enough time for a quick breakfast. As he strolled down the hall towards the elevator, he heard a ding as it reached his floor. He rounded the corner just as a lithe figure in a cadet's uniform bolted out of the elevator before the doors before they were more than half open, and streaked towards him screaming, "I'm late, I'm late, I'm LAAAAAAATE!!!!!!"

He had just enough time to register that the student was petite and female before she charged strait into him. He was knocked back a step, allowing his legs to absorb the shock, but the girl rebounded off of him and was thrown to the floor. Squall straitened, and looked disapprovingly down at the girl. He found himself, for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning…annoyed. He toyed with the idea of asking her if she was ok, but abandoned the idea in favor of a nice, friendly, cold silence.

"……"

The girl was completely oblivious to his displeasure. She rose to her feet, brushing herself off, and giving Squall an enormously friendly, slightly apologetic smile.

"Sorry about that" she beamed, "Did you just come from that classroom?"

When Squall nodded, the girls face seemed to melt, and her whole demeanor seemed to wilt.

"Is homeroom over?"

Squall nodded again.

"Noooooooooooooooo!" the girl wailed mournfully, "this place is so much bigger than my last Garden." And then, just like flipping a light switch in a dark room, the girl's whole attitude transformed instantly. The droop went out of her shoulders and the comically sad expression on her face was replaced by the radiant smile, "I just transferred here from Trabia Garden, do you think you could give me a tour?!" she bubbled happily.

Squall could tell immediately that she was one of those perpetually enthusiastic, optimistic, positive, uplifting, upbeat, happy people. And so of course, on principle, he didn't like her.

"Don't have the time."

The girl was completely unfazed. Her smile didn't waver even slightly.

"Oh, ok," she chirped brightly, "well maybe I'll see you around!" And with that, she sauntered off down the hall. Squall sighed and walked over to the elevator.

_Today_ he thought, as he pushed the elevator's call button, _is going to be a very long day_.

His assertion was further cemented when he entered the cafeteria, only to find Seifer and his two closest friends, Fujin and Rajin, congregated around a vending machine. The trio made up the disciplinary committee of Balamb Garden, a group formed by the Headmaster, with the sole purpose of containing Seifer's bullying and power plays to misbehaving students, with the added benefit of enforcing rules. It kept Seifer from causing too much trouble, and helped the Faculty keep the students in hand.

The three of them could usually be found prowling the halls and grounds, scouring the campus for deviant students, Seifer, tall and blonde, the obvious leader of the group, followed by Fujin and Rajin. Rajin looked intimidating from afar. He was an absolute behemoth: well over six feet tall with dark skin stretched tight around bulging, rock hard muscles. Squall often found himself wondering how Rajin fit into the group, since upon closer inspection, he proved to be loud, friendly, and almost completely harmless to everyone he liked, which was basically everyone he met. Fujin, on the other hand, was petite, with fair skin, short silver hair, and a black eye patch that no one knew if she actually needed. She hardly ever spoke, and when she did it was in single, harsh fragments. All the underclassmen were afraid of her, and anyone who talked to her got the impression that this was not a girl you'd want to be on the wrong side of. Like the feeling you get when you hold a grenade, knowing the destructive power of it, yet wondering how it could be so small. She, like Seifer, possessed an air of frigid cruelty, while Rajin was the proverbial gentle giant.

Just as Squall was passing them, Seifer looked up and saw him. Before he could say anything however, Fujin shook her head at Seifer.

"IGNORE."

Seifer nodded and turned back to the vending machine just as Rajin looked up and saw Squall.

"YO! It's Squall! You want something to drink? Fujin's treating us!" He shouted, his face glowing with excitement. Before Squall could even think of a reply, Fujin glared at Rajin,

"RAGE." She snapped, and drove her boot into Rajin's shin.

"AHHHH! OW! What was that for?!?!"

Fujin rolled her eye exasperatedly and turned back to the vending machine as Seifer chuckled. He looked over at Squall, "Can't you see we're busy? Leave us alone." As Squall turned away, Rajin grabbed his sleeve.

"Fujin can be a little harsh sometimes," he whispered, "don't worry about it, ya know?"

Squall nodded. He did know, and it looked as though Rajin were about to get a reminder, as Fujin spun around.

"WHAT?"

"Oh! N-nothing."

Fujin glowered at him for a few seconds but her thoughts were interrupted as a cadet charged through the door behind them. He had the build of a fighter: shorter, muscular, and very agile. His hair was blonde, and a tattoo stretched across the left side of his face. He exploded into the cafeteria like the dogs of hell were on his heels and ran up to the counter.

"Do…. do you have any… any hotdogs left?" he panted.

"Nope. We're all sold out."

"DAMN! Not again," the cadet wailed, "I can never get here early enough." He seemed on the verge of tears as he walked slowly back out of the cafeteria, a picture of dejection. As he passed the four of them, Seifer's face light up with an evil smirk.

"……Speeding." He said.

"AFFIRMATIVE."

"Roger, ya know!"

"Let's go arrest him for violating Garden Regulations," Seifer said, and with that the three of them exited after the cadet. Squall shook his head, the cadet's name was Farell or Turell or Zell or something weird like that, and for some reason Seifer loved to bully him. No doubt Seifer was savoring the opportunity to further ruin the blonde cadet's day. Sure, he was abusing his power, but Seifer knew that he had to play by the rules most of the time to keep the power of his position, so he saved his limited abuse privileges for special cases which usually involved the tattooed cadet.

The remainder of Squall's breakfast was uneventful. He finished quickly, then went back to his room for a quick shower and his equipment. By the clock in his cell phone it was 0934 by the time he'd gathered his equipment and sent Quistis a text telling her to meet him at the front gate in ten minutes.

**A/N:**

**So here's chapter 2, for all 29 of you who read the first one. Just in case youre wondering why it takes me so long, I have a life. Lol, and I could use some help editing. I do as much as I can, but I probably still miss stuff, so if anyone wants to help, that'd be great. I'd even be interested in co-authoring this if anyone wanted to help me out. **


End file.
